The Miraculous Journey of Deddy Bear Wartooth
by cooliochick5
Summary: After being left behind after a concert, Deddy Bear must set out on a long journey to find his way home. Throughout his travels, Deddy meets many new faces, some trying to detour him from his quest. Will he ever find Toki again? Will Toki every find him? Read and find out
1. Chapter 1

**D****isclaimers:**_** I own nothing**_

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><p>"FUCK YOU, SAN FRANCISCO!" Nathan Explosion growls into his microphone, signalling the completion of Dethklok's first concert in almost six months.<p>

After yet another successful concert (if you ignore the minimal deaths that had occurred) the tired five drag themselves back to their hotel, sweat and corpse paint dripping from their exhausted faces.

"Oh man, I jest wanna sleep forever." Pickles, the drummer, wipes his brow with the back of his right hand, pocketing his drumsticks with the other.

"Pfft. Yous can't bes serious. Not with all thems groupies to fucks." Swisgaar sets his Gibson guitar back in its case, linking his fingers together and stretching them over his head, reveling in the nice sound of popping joints. Pickles cringes at the sickening sound before shaking his head, dread locks falling over his shoulder.

"Not tonight, dood. I'm beat." He adds in a yawn to further prove his point. Murderface, who had been busy carving 'Planet Piss' into a near by wall, stops to laugh at the play on words.

"The drummer isch beat! HA! That'sch a good onesch." He can hardly contain his laughter, his lisp sending a spray of saliva in the drummer's direction.

"Ha. That's uh...that's real funny." Nathan leans against an speaker, which tipped as soon as he threw his weight on to it. The band manager, Charles Ofdensen, as well as a few unsuspecting Klokateers, entered backstage now.

"Now, I need all the boys belongings packed and on the Dethbus as soon a-." The CFO never got to finish his sentence as the speaker Nathan had been leaning on finally tipped over, Klokateers who stood beneath it. Of the eight assistants who had walked in, only three would be walking out.

"Great, just great." Charles mumbles, looking up at his boys.

"Uh..." Nathan rubs the back of his neck, "Sorry?"

*insert Theme Song*

Now, safe in the Dethbus, short a few Klokateers, the boys are more than ready to get to their hotel rooms.

"Now remember, " Charles begins passing out room keys, "We are only staying the night, don't break anything, don't stay up too late, and no leaving the hotel." He pauses, realizing the boys probably have long since tunes him out. All five are seated somewhere throughout the bus, typing away at their dethphones, "Are you...all texting each other?" He pointlessly asks. A faint buzz in his back pocket and a text reading 'Ya' from Pickles confirms his suspicion. He sighs in defeat, re pocketing his phone. He is about to leave the room when one of his boys springs from their seat.

"Um, Charles, do yous um..." Toki hasn't said a word all evening, so Charles is eager to listen.

"Yes, Toki, do you need something?"

"Yeah. Um...I ams really tireds and uh.."

"Oh! That's right. Yes, wait right here." Charles could almost laugh at the boy's shy behavior as he heads to the front of the bus.

"How is the passenger doing?" Charles asks when he reaches the driver.

"He's been just fine." The driver pats the head of his passenger. Charles rolls his eyes at the ridiculous situation, but smiles none the less. He unbuckles Deddy Bear from his seat, "Thank you for watching him. Toki appreciates it." He said as he left the area, heading back to his boys.

It had been such a strange request from the rhythmic guitarist, first asking if he could even take the stuffed bear along, let alone asking if he could ride upfront since the only seats with safety belts were located there. To any other person, Toki would have seemed like a complete whack-o, or rather, an over grown child. Charles knew better, however. Toki's childhood was defiantly hard, and from what Twinklestits, the therapist, could gather, Toki was now suffering from PTSD because of it. It made sense, really, his past had been riddled with abuse from his parents, which Charles himself was still rather confused on, even accepting that he may never know the complete story, let alone the full damage it had on his guitarist. However, he always seemed at peace when he had his beloved teddy bear around, so the manager often went the extra mile, going along with Toki's rather odd requests for the bear.

"Here you are." Charles offered a slight smile as he handed the bear back to its over.

"Thanks you." Was all the boy said as he slid onto the couch, bear tucked securely under his chin.

"Man, he's gettin' real weird with that thing." Pickles watches in mild amusement as the rhythmic guitarist's face softens, indicating he is more or less conscious.

"Maybe we could justch take it away." Murderface makes stabbing motions with his dagger, putting the remaining three members of the band on edge.

"Maybe we could, uh, burn it, or somethin', cause, uh...teddy bears aren't brutal." Nathan suggests.

"Or raise its up a flags pole," Swisgaar chimes in, getting quite a few stares. He quickly adds, "Whiles on the fires!"

"Yeah..." Nathan almost smiles at the mental image of a burning bear.

"Geys, maybe we should jest, ya know, not touch it." Pickles leans against his hands, wincing at the slight pain he feels in his fingers from playing so long.

"Geezch , Picklesch, live a little, will ya?" Murderface stabs his dagger into the couch, causing everyone still awake to flinch slightly. Despite the added comments, the rest of the band knew they were simply talking out their asses. This wouldn't be the first time they plotted to take the bear away, but after the first attempt, which nearly resulted in the second killing of Jean Pierre, the band decided they would leave the bear be. They knew as much about Toki's childhood as the guitarist would let off and, due to the rule of not caring, wouldn't press it any further.

The Dethbus finally made it to the hotel, crushing a few cars (and maybe even a few people) that stood in its way.

"Finally." Pickles groans, standing from his seat, rubbing his aching shoulders, "Night guys.' He calls, picking up his bag of clothing and toiletries and retreating into the hotel. Swisgaar rises slowly, carrying his guitar by the neck. He says nothing as he slips into the hotel, silently hoping he can find at least one decent fuck tonight. Murderface pulls his dagger out of the couch, flips the bird to the remaining members on the tour bus and leaves out the front door as well. Nathan is about to leave when he notices Toki is fast asleep on the couch. He turns to one of the surviving Klokateers and points a large finger in his direction, "You, get this jack off to his room." He orders before grabbing his own bag and exiting the bus.

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><p>Just as Charles had been expecting, none of the members had been paying him any mind during last night's meeting, so it made perfect sense when he went to wake his boys early the following morning, everyone was still fast asleep (even Swisgaar's many bunk mates)<p>

"Alright, up, everyone up." Charles demands, grabbing the corner of Swisgaar's blanket, tugging it off (finding more groupies asleep beneath it).

"Ey! What's the bigs idea!" The lead guitarist is quickly flung in to consciousness, doing his best to retrieve his only source of warmth, and clothing for that matter.

"We need everyone on the Dethbus in the next ten minutes." Charles folds his arms before leaving the room, repeating this process to the rest of the band. Nathan simply rolled over, begging for five more minutes of sleep. Murderface threw one of his knives, narrowly missing the Manager's face. Pickles, on the other hand, is still completely dead to the world, the poor manger nearly tripped over the many discarded beer bottles that now littered the floor of his room.

Toki, on the other hand, was already wide awake, eating a box of fruit loops while watching the early morning cartoons.

"Toki?" Charles knows on the door before entering, "We need everyone on the Dethbus."

"Oh!" The boy tosses his blankets from his body and exits the room, completely forgetting about his box of cereal, still in the room.

It takes more than twenty minutes, but slowly and surely, the rest of the band begins to trudge out to the dethbus and an hour later, the band is back on the road. Now back on schedule, Charles allows himself to recline in his chair, cherishing one of the very few moments of peace he gets to experience. Then again, when was there ever a moment of peace with Dethklok around? Atleast two hours into the trip (which really isn't long in Dethklok time) a sudden shriek of terror pulls Charles from his thoughts. He is about to reach from a hand held gun he usually carried on is person when on tour, but a second shriek changes his mind.

"DEDDY BEAR IS GONE!" He hears Toki exclaim, followed by, what he assumes are couch cushions colliding with Klokateers, sounds"SOMEONE STOLE DEDDY!"

"Well, done of us took him!" He hears his drummer argue back.

"I dont think, uh, Deddy bear is even on the bus. You did just tear up the whole damn bus."

It is with Nathan's observation, Charles makes a rather unfortunate realization.

If Deddy wasn't on the bus...

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><p>Two hours away, laying beneath a discarded blanket and what Deddy is hoping are cheerios (as Toki usually got a bad tummy ache from any other type of cereal) Deddy bear tried to adjust his button eyes to the darkness.<p>

'Hello? Anyone there?' The bear asks, but soon realizes no one can hear him.

'Oh dear, oh dear. This is no good!' The bear begins to panic when he feels the blankets around him being lifted into the air, 'Toki?'

But, alas, it is not Toki.

It is the maid, who seems to not even notice Deddy among the piles of blankets. She tosses the bundle into a bin. Said bin is headed straight for the wash.

_**A/N: I will say this, The miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane did inspire this fanfiction. With that being said, the book made me cry like an idiot as a kid. Soooo, what is to happen with Deddy Bear next? Stay tuned to find out!**_


	2. Chapter 2

'Hello!?' You shout from your blanket cocoon, hoping something might hear you.

'Yo!' Something calls back to you, 'Who's there?'

'Ey! Keep it down, I'm tryin' to sleep here!'

'Who's there?' you ask once again, quickly losing patience, 'Where are we going?'

'What do ya mean, where are we goin'?' The irritated sleeper from before calls back.

"We're going to the washing machine!' the first voice adds in quickly. You scrunch up your plastic nose at that.

Having grown up with Toki a little bit, you really didn't know what technology was. The boy lived in a small village on the edge of Norway, shoot, you hadn't even seen a tv until last year when Toki felt safe enough to take your out of his room after the rest of the band had tried to feed you to the wolves.

'A...what?'

'You know, a washing machine, it fills up with water and spins ya around.'

'W-water? No! We can't do that, I can't swim!' You become frantic, trying to fight your way out of the sheet you were wrapped in. but, alas, you were only a teddy bear.

'The dryer makes it all worth it,' The irritated voice says. The voice itself sounds scratchy, like the sound of a zipper on a pair of pants being zipped up, "I'm Salty the Sleeper, by the way. Got left behind by my kid's mom when he pissed all over me while on vacation back in '79. Been left at the front desk for other parents to use with their stupid kids while they stay here.'

'And I'm Towely the Towel. Got left here by my girl when she threw up in the pool.'

'Wait...you mean you all had owners at one point?'

'Fuck yeah we did, till we got left behind.' Salty snaps at you. It made it even scarier that you could only hear the voices, not actually see the person (or object) they belonged to.

'Did they even come back for you?' You ask, 'I'm Deddy Bear by the way...My owner's name is Toki...'

'Well, "Deddy", you better get used to the hotel life, cause you ain't ever gonna see "Toki" again.'

You feel your stitches tighten around your tummy area at his harsh words, 'Will so! Bet ya Toki is looking for me right now!'

'Doubted, probably doesn't even know you're gone. Now, shut up kid, we're here.' Salty's voice sounds grave as the cart you're in comes to a stop. You gulp in fear as the blanket you are in is hoisted into the air, before being dropped rather harshly into what looked to be a barrel. You are now free of your blanket cocoon, letting your button eyes travel along the metal chamber. Where was the water? Towely had spoke of water in these things, and yet, none was present. Maybe, just maybe, it was just another lie. Much like the lie of never seeing Toki again. He was looking for you, you knew it. You are brought back to your current problem as a click indicated that the door of the chamber was now closed. The washing machine is still for a moment, but you could sense what was coming next. A jet of water begins to pour from the top of the machine, wetting your fur.

'This isn't so bad.' you think, almost relaxed by the steadily falling water. However, when the water begins to touch the tip of your devil tail, you begin to panic.

'No! No, shut off the water! I can't swim!' You shout pointlessly as water begins seeping into your fur, causing your stuffing to separate. As soon as you're completely submerged, the water stops and the spin cycle begins. Never in your life have you hated the act of spinning more than you do now. Typically, spinning was done with your beloved Toki whenever he was really excited about something. He'd hug you tightly to his chest, tight enough you could actually hear his heart beat as he turned circles about his room, rambling nonsense in Norwegian. This spinning was nothing like that at all. You were thrown about the giant metal machine. slamming tight against the wall (do cylinders even have walls?) until the rinse cycle begins. More water is poured into the machine, causing all your neck stuffing to flood into your head as you are flung around the horrid place, one of your button eyes being ripped clean off your face. Just as you reach the end of your rope (or stitches in this case) the spinning comes to a halt. A click to the door indicates the ride has come to an end. You try to focus your good eye to see around you, but you can no longer support your now floppy neck.

"¿Qué?" You hear a rather shrill voice from somewhere in front of you.

"Un oso de peluche?" The voice is soon connected by a hand that wraps around your sopping wet middle. It lifts you to the air, chubby fingers support the back of your head and you are now face to face with a maid. The woman herself has a rather chubby face, matching her fingers. Chubby, yes, ugly, far from. You were never much for thinking of women as beautiful, and most certainly now a grey haired maid, but there was something familiar about her. You stare at her with your one good eye, only one name connecting in your mind.

Anja Wartooth.

No, you would not call her beautiful, hell, you wouldn't call her anything, really. You had been thrown against too many walls by her husband, then forced to stare at her emotionless face as hell was brought down upon her own son. If you could vomit, you would. However, there was once, and only once that the woman was ever appealing to you.

_It had been...well...you never really had a concept a time, but you did remember Toki's hair being up to his chin and the child was barely able to reach the counter top (which resulted in another beating). In the midst of the fight between father and son, you had been snatched up by the older man and Toki bound you to his chest, as if he expected you to defend him some how. You were thrown toward a picture of your young friend, a loose string from your button eye getting caught around the nail that hung it. You remember falling from the nail, you button eye did not come with. Toki had cried himself to sleep when he discovered you were hurt. You had stayed awake, offering whatever comfort you could to the boy. The moon was in the middle of the clear sky when Anja had entered the room, a single candle illuminating her entire gaunt face. She moved wordlessly to the picture where your eye still hung and carefully detached it. She slipped you from her sleeping son's hands and sat on the floor beside him. Pulling a small needle and thread from her robe, she set the candle in front of her, now working rather quickly to stitch your eye in to place. Once satisfied with her work, she replaced you in Toki's arms, placing a hand on his head, smoothing down a few fly away hairs before retrieving her candle and exiting the room._

"Un cola diablo? Oh! Qué tontería. Le falta una-Ahí está!" The maid reaches back into the washing machine, withdrawing your detached button. She laughs to herself and she wraps you in a small hand cloth and places you in the pocket of her apron.

"Vamos, pequeño juguete diablo. Tú vienes conmigo."

**_Translations: "What?"_**

**_"A Teddy Bear."_**

**_"A devil tail? How silly! It's missing- there it is!"_**

**_"Come along, little devil toy, you're coming with me."_**


	3. Chapter 3

You're crammed into the space between the windshield and dash board of a beat up Ford pickup truck, fitting quite snuggly between a gas station soda cup and various wrappers and other stuffed animals that you preferred not to talk about.

From what you could see with your good eye, there was a shattered pattern on the windshield itself, the sun pouring in through the window like a flame from hell, just about burning you're crusty skin worse than the washing machine. You're main fear was that you're only good eye would soon be melted away by this crazy heat. Doesn't this car have an air conditioner?

Judging by the sudden gust of wind from the broken, permanently open windows on both doors of the truck, no, it didn't. The wind blew the wrappers around and you began to fear that Consuela over there was going to crash eventually.  
>What a metal way to go out. Death by condom wrappers…<p>

The word metal snapped you back to your thoughts. You began to wonder just where the hell Toki was and what his stupid little self was up to. You didn't have much time to long for your lost companion because next thing you knew, that crazy bitch made a sharp turn, sending that Speedway (how does she even afford that shit!?) cup slipped down your way, trapping your wobbly head in it.

'WHAT THE *RIFF* IS EVEN IN THIS CUP!?'

*Queue Theme song*

'Ah! Holy *riff*! Oh *riff* GAH! *Riff*ing disgusting mother*riff*er!' You curse as you're dragged from the cup.

"Aqui." The maid says in a sing-song voice.

'Least it can't get much worse.'

And just like that, it does. Before you know it, the rest of the Nachos are filing out of the house, having what you could only describe as a 'Front Lawn Fiesta'. Mexicans everywhere pretty much parading around the block. Much to your horror, a group of small children ran to you.

"No, él debe fijarse primero." The maid holds you to her breasts (Holy *riff*! How does she carry these things around!?) before retreating into the house.

**_Meanwhile:_**

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE AMS NOT HERE!?" Toki appears about ready to strangle Charles, going as far as to bash a nearby lamp over a klokateer's head. The poor servant fell to ground, seemingly dead due to the blunt force trauma.

"I called the hotel, Toki, Deddy isn't there." Charles said simply, as if the simplicity of the words wouldn't cause any further distress for the guitarist. Not that it was at all possible to cause anymore nerves than there already was.

"WELL, HE AMS NOT HERE!" Toki howled, slamming his fists on the desk separating him and the manager.

Charles removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. The pinching itself did nothing to alleviate the headache that had begun to form, but it had become more so a nervous habit for the manager, needing to do something aside from alcohol to keep up with the boys antics without either dying of a stroke or having a nervous breakdown, which ever came first.

"Toki, please control yourself." Charles is really only talking to himself and boy does he know it. The mere point of his sentens was to provide himself with some sort of release of tension. Toki would be having none of it today as he glares at you with those damn cold puppy dog eyes of his.

"I ams perfectly calm." The man defends in a voice so calm, it actually scared the manager a little bit. Yes, The Great Charles Ofdenson was intimidated by a boy who was freaking out over the 'life' of a teddy bear with a devil's tail.

Midlife crisis milestone, matched.

"Toki, we are doing every thing we can to find the bea-"

"That ams Mr. Deddy Bear to you."

"Yes, um, Mr. Deddy Bear. We are doing everything we can to find Mr. Deddy Bear." Charles weaves his fingers together, resting his chin on top of him. This position is currently the only thing keeping him from diving for the bottle of emergency liquor beneath his desk.

The only reason the manager even kept the bottle there was in case Pickles went through another rage-quit or if Skwisgaar some how managed to gain another lawsuit, but never did he think he would need it for a situation involving Toki..or Deddy Bear for that matter.

"Then why ams he not founded yet." Toki slams his fists down on the desk before him so hard that a lamp falls over. The lamp, in turn, topples over, landing in a fish tank that an unsuspecting Klokateer just so happens to be cleaning at the time. The lamp throws of sparks, electrocuting the assistant.

Unfazed by the sudden lack of a working lamp in his office, Charles answered, "Toki, we've covered a lot of ground in the last montage before that commercial break. It could take days, maybe even weeks to locate Deddy."

"Dids ya not chipsed him or somethings?" Toki growls between clenched teeth, getting an almost deranged look to his eyes. Charles, still containing his composure, shakes his head.

"No, Toki, he was not chipped. However, I can have him chipped in the future if you like."

In response, Toki picks up yet another good lamp and aims it for the wall behind Charles. It instead makes contact with another Klokateer's skull, sending a severed nose in Charles direction,

"Finds him." The boy growls as he leaves. By the time the door closes, Charles is beneath his desk, nursing a bottle of rum.


End file.
